


Flawless

by Severina



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Community: tv-universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You'll find a spot," Rick says.  "I'm absolutely sure of that."  He flashes a quick grin at Lori as she emerges from the tent.  The look of shared amusement on their faces makes Glenn feel vaguely uneasy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flawless

**Author's Note:**

> Episode 105. Written for LJ's tv_universe community for the love tropes prompt "everyone can see it". (Inspiration from Persnickett's supplementary prompt, "transportation".)
> 
> * * *

Glenn was hoping that if they'd ever have to light out from the camp, he'd be doing it in style in the beauty of a sports car. The bastardization of the little red car for spare parts makes that a pipe dream.

But there are advantages to not having a car of his own.

* * *

Rick and Lori are packing up, and from Lori's quick, violent movements as she shoves dishes and bulky photo albums into a plastic tote Glenn guesses that Rick's wife isn't as supportive of this run to the CDC as she let everyone else believe. Glenn hovers on the periphery of their section of the camp, waits until Lori's disappeared back into their tent to approach.

"Uh, Rick," he says. "So I don't have a car—"

Rick straightens from his own packing, wipes the back of his hand over his sweaty brow. "I know that, Glenn," he says. "I'm real sorry about the sports car."

"Yeah," Glenn says shortly. Thinking about the way those scavengers just swept in, tore that baby apart… He shakes his head, focuses on the here and now. "The thing is, I need a ride to the CDC, and—"

Rick grimaces, glances across to where Carol sits at a picnic bench with the kids. "I'm sorry, Glenn," he says. "We already promised Carol and Sophia they could ride with us. You and Dale didn't have a falling out, did you? He's got plenty of room."

"No, we're good," Glenn says quickly. He smiles, hopes it isn't too wide. 

"You'll find a spot," Rick says. "I'm absolutely sure of that." He flashes a quick grin at Lori as she emerges from the tent. The look of shared amusement on their faces makes Glenn feel vaguely uneasy.

* * *

"Enrique," Glenn calls out, waves and waits for the man to finish talking to his wife before he joins him at the fire pit. "About the run to the CDC tomorrow—"

"Tell you the truth? We're not sure we're going."

Glenn glances over at the Morales girls, knows the shock is showing in his face. "You're not? But—"

"We’re not sure it's the safest course of action."

Glenn shakes his head, reaches out to take the older man's arm. "No. Man, we've got to stick together! Going it alone, you'll have no one to watch your back!"

"Miranda will," Morales says. "I trust her more than anyone."

Glenn's seen Miranda shoot and he know she's good, but there's only so many bullets and everyone has to sleep sometime. He opens his mouth to protest further, but Enrique is already clapping him on the back. 

"Besides, I know who you really wanna be riding with, my friend."

Glenn blinks. "What?"

"And hey, Glenn. We haven't decided yet, so this stays between us, all right? I keep your secret, you keep mine."

* * *

"I know you're probably expecting me to ride with you to the CDC, but—"

Dale looks up distractedly. "No, I wasn't."

"Oh," Glenn says. His entire well-rehearsed explanation of why he can't accept a ride in the one vehicle that clearly has room for him goes completely out of his head at Dale's simple statement. "Okay," he says instead.

"You think I expect you to keep an old man company all the damn time?"

Glenn frowns. "No, but—"

"You're a young man, Glenn, and just because the world ended that doesn't mean you don't get to have your happily ever after." 

Glenn shuffles his feet in the dirt, even though he's certain that there is absolutely no way that the old man could possibly know… well… anything. He sighs. "I'm confused."

Dale only arches a fuzzy brow before turning back to his detective novel.

* * *

"Shane, if you don't need me in your car then—"

"Jesus Christ," Shane says. "You wanna fuck Dixon? Then go on and fuck him. Just stop jawing about it."

Glenn takes a step back, blinks into the sunlight. "What? No! I never said—"

"But lemme tell ya somethin'," Shane adds. He turns away from his car, drapes an oily rag over his shoulder. "That boy is bad news. Ain't no different than his brother. So you wanna get involved with that piece of trailer park trash? Be my guest. Just don't come runnin' to me when he turns on ya, you hear?"

Glenn nods rapidly, even though he couldn't disagree more. Daryl is nothing like his brother. Daryl fought for him, risked his life for him. Daryl listened to him, took what he said to heart. Daryl's a good man.

He opens his mouth to say so, but Shane is already sniffing derisively and turning back to his tune-up. He'd stick out his tongue, but he's too mature for that. He gives Shane's back the finger instead.

* * *

He finds Daryl securing his bike to the bed of the pickup; stands near the passenger door and watches as Daryl expertly ties off a knot. If Daryl notices him, he gives no sign – not even when Glenn coughs discreetly into his hand. Finally he just swallows nervously and speaks up.

"So," he says, tipping his hat back and shading his eyes. "I don't have a car."

Daryl grunts before gripping the seat of the bike and giving it a good shake. When the bike holds, he nods.

"I mean, I did have a car," Glenn says. "That little sports car? But Dale and Jim ripped it apart, so. Now I don't. Have a car."

Daryl gives the seat of the bike a quick wipe with the dirty red rag he always keeps shoved in his back pocket. Glenn's seen the man wipe his face with it, clean his arrows with it, blow his nose into it. The fact that he still finds Daryl attractive after witnessing all of this is probably the one thing that astounds him the most.

"Driving that thing was sweet, too," Glenn says feebly. "Great… transmission."

Daryl gives the bike a pat before he hops down from the bed of the truck, cocks his head and squints at him. "You gonna make a point sometime this century, Ho Chi Minh? Or you just like listenin' to yourself talk?"

Glenn clears his throat before he dives in. "Could I ride with you to Atlanta?"

"No skin off my nose," Daryl says with a shrug. He stuffs the rag in his pocket and turns toward his tent, calls over his shoulder before he disappears inside. "Don't think you're in charge of the damn stereo, though. We're listenin' to Haggard or nothin'."

Glenn nods, even though Daryl can't see him, and bounces on his toes; he barely resists a fist pump. 

His plan was flawless.


End file.
